


The World's Tough On Guys Like You And Me

by qweendweeb



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternative Universe- Avatar The Last Air Bender, Grimmons, M/M, Tuckington - Freeform, Violence Warning, its kind of cool, people are benders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:37:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qweendweeb/pseuds/qweendweeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life as a firebender wasn't easy before, but now that the war is over? Life's a whole lot worse for Dexter Grif. And a certain earthbender isn't making it any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hard Way

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place just after the end of Avatar The Last Airbender. Though I'm trying to keep to cannon, somethings are a little different than the actual ATLA universe.

The world didn’t magically fix itself after the war ended. Yes, firebenders stopped attacking and the battles were all put to an end. But after fighting for a century, saying ‘the end’ doesn’t clean up the hate that’s filled the world, it doesn’t stop people from, rightfully, blaming the firebenders for their troubles.

Of course, this had a terrible effect on Dexter Grif’s life. Being a firebender wasn’t easy on him; not wanting to join the war, not wanting to kill for a cause he thought was all around shitty. It put his life in danger, his and his sister’s. Put him on the run, away from the Fire Nation. Hiding his abilities until the world would become more accepting of fire benders.

“Dex!” Sister called from the kitchen. “Cleanup on aisle four.”

“This is a restaurant. There aren't any aisles.” Grif shook his head, trying to figure out what exactly she meant for him to clean up.

“Potato, tomato,” She replied happily.

The two siblings lived like that; in their Earth Kingdom garb, renting a subpar house in the city of Ba Sing Se. Grif didn’t hate his life, seeing as it was much better than just a few years ago, pick-pocketing and thieving just to get by. They started their lives over almost completely, really the only thing that hadn’t changed was their names and even that came into question on whether they should keep it or not.

The small hole-in-the-wall-restaurant they worked in was owned by Wash, who'd hired them after Grif became easy friends with Tucker who introduced Grif to Wash in the first place. The food served was terrible before Sister came along and commandeered the kitchen from Tucker. Really, Grif and Sister were a gift to Blue Bowl.  

Grif was finishing up sweeping, (which really meant just pushing the dirt into a corner where no one would notice.) Closing usually meant working pretty late into the night so he told Sister to go ahead and he’d catch up to her.

Less than ten minutes later, Grif was following the path leading to their house. Up ahead he saw a group of three people, as he got closer he realized they were surrounding who looked like a girl, and she didn’t sound happy. Panic raised in Grif’s throat, jumping to the conclusion that it was his sister. He started to run towards the group.

“Hey!” Grif drew the attention away from the girl they were tormenting. Standing just less than ten feet away Grif could see that it obviously wasn’t his sister, a short haired blonde. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t think this is any of your business. How about you run along?” The man said and started to turn back around to the girl.

“Yeah? Well I’m making it my business.” Grif didn’t know where this sudden rush of bravery came from. But he did know it was stupid and it was just going to get him into serious trouble.

“And what exactly do you think you can do against us?” One of the other men said in a weird accent.

“Look, Mustache. I just want you to leave the kid alone.” His temper was being pushed, and Grif could feel the heat pool in his hands, burning to set aflame.

“Why don’t you make us?” At this point all three men had turned their complete attention to Grif. He looked over Mustache’s shoulder to see that the girl was at a safe range away, just in case.

Grif sighed, looking back to the thugs, and lifted his hands to show them glowing orange and red with fire. He cocked his head to the side and said, “I guess I’ll just have to, huh?”

He didn’t want to hurt the guys so Grif aimed a ball of fire for their feet, making them jump. The three were quick to run away with shouts of ‘fuck!’ and ‘he’s a fucking firebender?!’

All in all, it was pretty hilarious and Grif hadn’t used his bending since they walked into the walls of the city. It felt good, letting the stress that had  built up all out. “Well. That was easy.”

He was broken out of his thoughts when the girl asked quietly, “Are you going to hurt me?”

“What? No! Why would I do that?” Grif was surprised, and a little hurt at the assumption.

“Just. Never met a friendly firebender before.”  The blonde stood up straighter, un-hunching her shoulders. 

Grif sighed, “I’m Grif.” He tried, putting his hand out shake. Seeing the burnt up sleeve, Blondy very hesitantly raised a hand as well. “And your name is…?”

“Ah, I’m Franklin. But most people call me Donut.” Grif did a double take, confused.

“Oh, you’re a- I mean. All the same I guess.” Grif said, more to himself than to Donut. “Weird name.” He commented.

Donut didn’t seem to mind, “So, like. Thanks. I gotta get going, or something...” He waved once before quickly walking away.

Grif shrugged, deciding he’d probably never see the guy again anyway. 


	2. Show Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When incognito, hearing someone talk about you in a faux hushed voice is a bit of a set back.

Another day at the restaurant, Grif was doing his usual sloppy job of cleaning. Sister was in the kitchen cooking. Tucker was at the register.

It was a pretty boring day, nothing new but that’s how Grif liked it. The altercation he’d had over a month ago seemed to fade away with zero consequence. Grif was thankful.

At that exact moment, from across the room Grif heard the ding of the bells on the door, and in walked two guys. One of which recognised Grif immediately. He turned to his friend, gasping. And Grif heard every word he said.

“Simmons, that’s the guy, the- the firebender that saved me!” Grif’s eyes widened. He turned to escape to the kitchen.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He groaned, leaning against a wall.

“What are you doing in here?” A stern voice asked from his left.

“I dunno, Wash. Building a fucking spaceship.” Grif sighed, no actual heat in his words.

“Dex, don’t be a dickhole.” Sister said, looking away from the stove. She lifted a hand to hide her mouth from Wash, then whispered, “ _He’s a guard_.”

“He’s not a guard.” Grif replied at the same time as Wash who said “I’m _not_ a guard.”

“Oh, yeah sure. That’s what you want me to think.” Sister narrowed her eyes, pointing her spatula at Wash before turning back to the stove.

“ _Any_ way. What are you doing in here?” He asked again.

“Look, a few weeks ago I helped a dude out when he was being jumped by these other guys. And now the guy that I helped out is out there,” Grif said pointing a thumb towards the door. “And is telling his friend about how I’m. Ya know…” He trailed off.

“A firebender?” Wash asked softly. Knowing it was a touchy subject with the younger man.

“Yes.” Grif answered stiffly, head down.

“Do you remember anything about the men that you fought?”

“I wouldn’t say fought. More like scared away. But, uh, no not really. One had a mustache and a weird accent. S’all I got.” Grif said with a shrug. It was obviously enough to spark a memory with Wash.

“Wait, was there another guy there, big and buff, bald with obvious tattoos?”

“I. Yeah, I think so.” Grif pushed himself off the wall. “Do you know them?”

Wash was silent for a moment before he answered. “Just. Don’t mess with those people, Grif. And hope they didn’t get a good look at you.” He said, then started to walk out of the kitchen.

“Thank you, Captain Cryptic.” Grif called after him, throwing his hands in the air.

Grif was about to walk out of the kitchen as well, he stopped at Sister’s voice. “Hey, could you take these plates to table four?”  

“Yeah, sure.” He grabbed the two dishes and walked out of the kitchen, looking too table four, where two young men sat. “Ah, fuck.” Grif muttered, just under his breath.

“So,” Grif said once he reached the table. “Who ordered the salad, and who ordered the sandwich?”

At the same time the two said their orders, Donut claimed the salad while the other man claimed the sandwich.

“Hey, uh, Grif.” Donut said as Grif set down their plates. “I don’t know if you remember, I’m-”

“Donut, yeah I remember.” Grif cut in.

“Oh.” The blond smiled, then gestured to his companion sitting across from him. “This is Simmons. Simmons-Grif.” Grif didn’t miss the look Donut gave Simmons. 

Grif was taken aback by the heinous glare Simmons gave him. It made him take a literal step back, confused at the pure hatred given to him in just a look.

“‘Lo.” He said, though it came out more like a question. Simmons’ glower didn’t waver and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to say anything. “So, Donut.” Grif decided to turn back to the more friendly man. “Those thugs haven’t messed with you again have they?”

Donut opened his mouth to answer but Simmons cut him off. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

That made Grif laugh, “Ah, no. You see, you weren’t there. I did this whole speech about how it was my business. It was this whole thing.” His reply obviously shocked Simmons. Grif smiled lazily at the glaring redhead, not breaking eye contact.

“No, they haven’t messed with me, Grif. Thank you for asking.” Donut spoke up, breaking Grif and Simmons out of their staring match. “Think having a firebender friend really scared ‘em off.”

“That’ll do it for a lot of people.” Grif said, more to himself than to Donut. Grif heard Tucker calling his name from the back of the restaurant. “Gotta go. Come again, or don’t. Whatever.” Grif nodded once to Donut and gave Simmons one last sparing look.

 

“I’m taking my break. Can you man the register?” Tucker asked once Grif reached the counter.

“Yeah, sure. Is Wash going on break too?” Grif wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, stepping behind the cash register.

“Fuck you, dude.” Was Tucker’s only response.

Though Grif would refuse to admit it, he kept finding himself staring at Simmons. At one point Simmons gaze flickered up at him, they both stopped for just a split second before Grif looked away first.

The thing was that Simmons seemed perfectly fine while eating his lunch with Donut. He laughed as they talked, he acted normal. Then Grif noticed one of Simmons arms, it was a dark silver color, metal.

Donut and Simmons both stood up at the same time. Simmons said something to Donut that Grif couldn’t hear, then Simmons walked out of the door and Donut made his way up to the register to pay.

“Hello again.” Donut said as Grif punched in the right amount on the register. “Sorry about Simmons. He’s not a big fan of firebenders.”

“Yeah. I got that.” Grif mumbled. He knew the whole firebending thing angered people, and really, Grif’s never been one to care about what other people thought. But for some reason the fact that Simmons, a guy Grif’s said all of twenty-something words to, was bothered by it annoyed Grif.

“He really is a good guy.” Donut continued.

“I don’t really care.” At this point Grif didn’t know what to say to make this guy leave. “That’ll be three silver pieces.”

Donut handed over the coins, not saying anything but Grif could tell he wanted to. “Look, Donut. Earthbenders and firebenders haven’t gotten along in over a hundred years.” He started to tell the speech Grif had given himself a million times. “It’ll probably take a hundred more for us to even start to get along again. Just the way the world is right now.”

“That’s a pretty sad way to look at it.”

“You got a better way?”

“I dunno. I just don’t think people have to hate each other.” Donut said thoughtfully.

“I didn’t either. S’why I’m living in the Earth Kingdom.”

Someone walked up in line behind Donut, he moved out of the way saying, “Alright. See you later Grif.”

“Bye.”

 

For the first few weeks, after Grif had saved Donut from those thugs, Grif refused to let Sister walk home alone. But when nothing happened after three whole weeks, he started to let her take the walk on her own. Seeing as Grif liked to stay back and maybe have a drink with Tucker, and occasionally Church if he decided to drop by.

That night, walking home Grif felt someone watching him, the hairs on his neck stood up. He was going to try to ignore the feeling until a rock hit him in the back of the head. Grif turned around, curious as to who would throw a rock at him. When he saw nothing, Grif continued to walk along the path to his house.

Then another rock hit him. Grif spun around, “Alright. As fun as this game is, I’d like you to please stop now.” Another mother fucking rock hit him in the back of the head and Grif was starting to get annoyed.

He turned again, now facing the original direction he was going, and saw a figure standing under the streetlamp just a few feet away.

“Really Simmons? Stalking? I mean I know I’m cute but-”

“Shut up. I have some questions.” Simmons walked out of the direct light, Grif was conscious of every step closer Simmons got to him.

“I guess my eyes _are_ pretty dreamy.” Grif continued on, pretending to inspect his nails.

“You’re not funny.” The redhead told Grif. “I just want to make sure you’re not gunna hurt Donut.”

“Because, you know. After you save a guys life you gotta kill ‘em. It’s the only thing that makes sense, right?” Grif snorted. “Of fucking course I don’t wanna hurt the kid. I barely wanna talk to him.”

“That’s rude.”

“And you’re just the picture perfect example of politeness, Simmons.” Grif ignored how much he liked saying Simmons’ name.

“Look.” The other man spit out. He continued to step closer to Grif, only leaving about a foot between them. “I’ve known Donut my whole life. And I’m not gunna let another firebender try and hurt my friend.”

Grif’s eyes flickered to Simmons’ left hand, then back up to his face. “Is that what happened to your hand?” And Grif can see that he hit a vein with that comment.

Simmons closed the gap between them, leaving only a few mere inches, “Well, you’re not wrong.” Grif was close enough to see the muscles in Simmons’ face move as he clenched his jaw.

“I think you’re trying to act tough,” Grif started, working to keep a straight face. “But I _feel_ like you wanna kiss me.”

Then, before Grif knew what was happening, rock cuffs were around his wrists pulling his hands into the air and dragging him backwards until Grif’s back hit a a wall, letting out a loud ‘oof.’ The cuffs melded to the wall, keeping Grif there.

“That was impressive.” Grif groaned out. “Let me go and I can show you a few of my own tricks.”  

Grif watched a ghost of a smile appear on Simmons’ face before faltering off. “You’re not funny.” Were the last words Simmons said before he turned on his heel and walked off.

“So I’ve been told.” He grumbled. It took a few seconds, and Simmons was still in sight when the cuffs released Grif. He rubbed his wrists as he watched Simmons disappear from his view.

 


	3. Firebending, Smoke, and Blood

The thing was, Grif didn’t have any ‘tricks.’ He was woefully inept at firebending. Grif never had any training, only the small amount of skill that came naturally. And, though Grif liked keeping things simple, he wished he was more advanced at bending.

Grif was thinking about this while lying at the base of a tree in the comfortable shade. staring at a small ball of fire hovering an inch above his hand. He ran his free hand through the flames, feeling it’s heat but not burning, briefly wondering what it would feel like to burn. Probably not pleasant.

He worked on focusing the flame to change at his will. It was the activity that had been taking up his entire afternoon. Somethings were easy; a sphere, a rod. Currently Grif was working on trying to make a perfect cube, but corners and fire really didn’t mesh.

From somewhere behind him, Grif heard a twig breaking. He dropped his hand, immediately dissipating the his fire.  

“Someone there?” He asked, pushing himself off the base of the tree trunk. A figure appeared out of the trees. Tucker.

“Yeah dude, it’s me.” Tucker walked towards the tree, sitting down across from Grif. “Why? Expecting someone else?” The corners of Tucker’s mouth turned up in a smirk.

“I recently decided to fuck with a goddamn gang. So sorry if I’m just a little cautious.” Grif rolled his eyes, leaning back onto the tree.

“Yeah. That was fucking stupid, man.”

“I apologize for being morally sound. Couldn’t just leave the kid to die.” Grif shut his eyes, shaking his head just slightly.

Tucker let out a laugh, “Yeah, and now he won’t leave you alone. Like when you feed a stray cat. I think he’s come to the Blue Bowl twelve days out of the last fourteen.” Grif shrugged at Tucker’s words. “But you don’t mind.”

Grif opened a curious eye. “The fuck does that mean? You know Donut annoys the shit outta me.”

“Mhm.” Tucker’s smile was ever so mischievous “You don’t mind because if Donut’s around then so is a certain earthbender.” Grif opened both his eyes, glaring slightly.

“Simmons? What about him?”

“Nothing. I just have to work on not puking at the way you hang on his every word.”

“The guy hates my guts. He doesn’t _say_ any words for me to hang on.” As the words left Grif’s mouth he knew it was the wrong thing to say. But it was true. Even if he was around a lot he still refused to talk to Grif. They’ve barely said three words to each other since the night Simmons followed him.

“Wow. I mean I knew, but. I didn’t think you would admit it so easily.”

“Leave me alone.” Grif sighed in defeat.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re not making this any fun.”

“Yeah? That sucks.” Grif replied, unapologetic. He rested his head back on the tree trunk, closing his eyes again. He could feel Tucker’s eyes on him for a few seconds before he heard Tucker’s voice again.

“Do you want a cigarette?” He offered, slightly resigned. Grif accepted by putting out his hands with his palm facing up. With the cigarette between his lips, Grif lifted a hand and snapped just at the end of it making a small flame.

“Hey, you’re bending.” Tucker observed.

“Yup. Realized I was getting rusty.”

“Have you ever been, you know, _not_ rusty?”

Grif laughed out a puff of smoke. “Fuck you, dude. I’ve never gotten training for shit. It’s impressive that I don’t burn myself.”

 

Walking home from the woods and it wasn’t even late, really. Grif could still see rays of the sun through the clouds in the sky, even if he couldn’t see the sun past the high walls. And yet, still.

Grif was hit over the head with a bat or a crowbar or something, he wasn’t very sure. Didn’t really care. Really what hurt more was the cuts that came next; one along his cheek, another down his back. A few punches in between. Kicks. Grif’s pretty sure he was spit on at one point.

He would’ve fought back, tried too. But they expected it, and put Grif in a freezer, after the blindfold was taken off him Grif saw meat hanging from the ceiling. A butcher shop. And each time Grif was able to create even a small fire he was dosed with a bucket of freezing water.

If anything was said during the whole interaction Grif didn’t hear it. That is until he was pushed out of the back of a van- he didn’t even remember getting into a van. A voice came out from the back of the van, harsh and terrorizing.

“The Swarm sends its regards.” Grif’s face was down on the pavement, he knew there’d be a blood stain when he got up. If he got up. From somewhere a door slammed and a van drove off with a screech. It was dark outside by then.

And just before Grif’s small field of view abandoned him completely a pair of familiar shoes step onto the ground just in front of Grif’s head. Fade to black.

“Fuck.” A voice sounded irritated, though to Grif it was clouded like he was trying to hear someone from under water. “That’s my last clean towel.” Grif didn’t understand what the voice meant. He didn’t bother trying to figure it out, deciding sleep sounded amazing.

The next time Grif woke up he was more alert, more willing to wake up. It didn’t take him long to realize he wasn’t in his own bed. Or in a room he even recognised.

His head kicked into overdrive, deciding that getting out was more important than figuring out what happened. But standing up proved to be more of a hurdle than Grif originally thought. Eventually he managed, stumbling out into the main room of the house, clutching his bandaged stomach.

The living room was empty aside from Simmons, who immediately stood up as Grif hobbled in. “What are you doing? Do you know how long it took me to fix you up? And now you’re going to ruin all of your bandages.”

“S-Simmons? You- _you_ helped me?” Then the world started to spin for Grif, and keeping his balance was becoming too much. He reached out to grab onto something, anything, to keep himself up. There was nothing to help him and the floor started to rush towards him.

Then arms surrounded him, catching Grif just in time. A soothing voice told him words he really needed to hear. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

And Grif blacked out again.

 ****  
  



	4. The "I'm Fine" Routine

It was dark when Grif woke up, but that wasn’t the first thing he noticed. The first thing running through Grif’s head was someone laying on his chest. Grif could immediately tell from the red hair that it was Simmons.

There was a hundred questions Grif had, ‘ _what the fuck_ ’ being the most prominent one. He thought about pushing Simmons off him, or maybe just carefully sneaking out from under him. Grif went with neither options and stayed completely still.

After a while of Grif listening to Simmons’ even breathing, he lifted a hand to Simmons hair, appeasing the urge he’d had for a while to run his fingers through the soft strands. He let his eyes wander around Simmons’ bare shoulders, noting how ironic it was that Simmons was a pale while he himself was dark skinned. Even though the opposite usually goes  for most people of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom.

Even more time passed before Simmons stirred in his sleep. Then blinked awake, yawning against Grif’s bare skin. His eyes trailed up, meeting Grif’s stare. They stayed like that for a few heartbeats, Grif was building up the nerve to say something, do something. Possibly move away from Simmons or.

Then, like it was a normal thing for either of them, Simmons smiled so earnestly and genuine that it made Grif’s breathing hitch and his heart stop completely before speeding up. It was so different from the almost constant glare Grif usually got, or the cold shoulder Simmons always gave. The smile fit so well on Simmons’ features that it made Grif mad at how long it took for him to see it.

Simmons pushed himself up on his elbows, hovering over Grif. Now all he could see was the constellation of freckles that spanned across Simmons’ cheeks and nose, and his sleepy emerald eyes.

In a split second decision, Grif pressed forwards to kiss the man just inches away. He closed his eyes as he moved, but his actions were met with a whole lot of nothing.

 

Opening his eyes this time, Grif saw a lot more light seeping through the plain maroon curtains of the bedroom window. It took him a minute to remember where his was. Really, the headache didn’t help. He sat up and lifted his arms to stretch, then a searing pain running across his back made him yelp. He immediately dropped his arms, reaching back to run a finger across the rough bandages.

The door flew open and Simmons was there so quick that it made Grif wonder if he was just waiting on the other side of the door.

“What’s wrong?” Simmons asked, his face stoic if a little worried. All Grif could think about was the dream he’d just had.

“Nothing, nothing. I just, wasn’t careful.” After a few seconds of silence Grif added, “Sorry.”

“Oh. Uh, I-” Simmons looked down realizing he’d over reacted. “There’s lunch. On the table if you want any.”  He stammered out, pointing a thumb back behind him.

“Lunch? What time is it?”

“Around two in the afternoon, Sunday.”

“Son of a _bitch_.” Grif swore, then started to get up. He was more careful about it this time. “I need to go home. I gotta see Kai, she’ll be worried I didn’t come home. Fuck. It’s almost been, what? Two _whole_ days.”

“You’re still really injured, you can’t leave- Wait. Who’s Kai?” Simmons furrowed his eyebrows, the question made Grif realize how little they knew about each other.

“She’s the girl that works in the kitchen at the Blue Bowl. You’ve probably seen her before, my little sister.” Grif spoke as he tried to find balance on his wobbly legs.

“Oh. Sister, okay.” The earthbender muttered to himself.

“Now, do you want to explain to me what happened or would you like me to draw out a map of my family tree?” Grif began to look around for a shirt, or really anything  to cover the bandages strapped around his shoulder and chest.

“I was hoping you could tell me. I found you bleeding like crazy in the street.”

“I dunno, got beat up. Thought that was pretty obvious, Simmons.”

“Do you only show gratitude in the form sarcasm and assholery? For some reason I was expecting more of a ‘thank you.’”

“No don’t worry, s’only when I talk to you.” He grumbled, picking up his neatly folded sweater off a chair next to the bed. He was about to put it on but he noticed the faded bloodstains, Grif ran a thumb over one of the stains close to the collar of the sweater. “You washed my sweater.” He said, looking up to meet the same green eyes that had been looking down at him not even twenty minutes before.

Simmons cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uhh. Just thought that it might be helpful, ‘cause your shirt was kinda ripped to shreds.” Grif didn’t reply, though he did continue to stare. After a moment Simmons spoke again. “So… Lunch?”

Grif nodded, pulling the sweater on. “Alright.”

“Um. I had a friend, Doc, he came in and checked up on you. While you were sleeping.” Simmons said over the dining room table. The table had two chairs but the size of it made it pretty obvious it was only for one person, Grif and Simmons’ plates were practically touching. But that was kind of the state of everything in Simmons humble abode, Grif noticed.

“And? Am I missing any organs?” Grif asked with a mouth full of food, he didn’t miss Simmons grimace at his lack of manners.

“He said you had an extremely mild case of frostbite on the tips of your fingers and a few bruised ribs. And your cuts aren’t infected but he wants to see you again later today, just to change the bandages . Also, probably a sprained wrist.”

“Frostbite.” Grif murmured a little in awe, he lifted his hands to look at, palms facing up. The skin was rough and calloused in some places, the tips of his fingers were red and they stung a bit when he thought about it.

Without thinking he summoned fire, just to try and get rid of the weird feeling making his fingers twitch. It wasn’t until the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Simmons on practically the other side of the room (though that wasn’t very far) that Grif realized it was an amazingly stupid move on his part.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” _Scare you_ , Grif cut himself off. He stood up as well, raising his hands in the air palms towards Simmons. He looked terrified and it made Grif’s insides shatter. “I just. I’ve never felt cold before last- or, two nights ago whatever. It was one of the worse things I’ve ever experienced.” Grif didn’t even understand how this explanation was suppose to make up for obviously triggering Simmons.

“It’s. It’s just so fucking easy to forget you’re a firebender.” Simmons said the words in a voice that sounded slightly stranged. Grif didn’t know how to reply, he didn’t need to though because Simmons wasn’t done talking. “The Fire Nation ruined my life. A firebender burnt my arm so severely that when it got infected it had to get fucking cut off. I was thirteen, and the guy did it just ‘cause.” Simmons stopped again, clearing his throat, he looked down before continuing on. “It shouldn’t be this hard for me to hate a firebender.”

“So you don’t then?” Grif asked before he could stop himself. Simmons looked up and smiled just barely.

“No. I don’t hate you.” Simmons said, the corners of Grif’s mouth twitched upwards.

“Good.” Grif sat back down, picking up his spoon. He looked up to Simmons and said, “I don't hate you either.”

Not much later, after Grif left Simmons and Simmons promised to bring Donut and his friend Doc to the restaurant, he walked into the Blue Bowl and was almost immediately tackled.

“Ow, fuck. Kai, get off me.” He complained, but didn’t push away from Sister’s hug.

“Where the fuck were you?” Sister asked punching him in the arm after she let go.

“I really need you to be gentle with me for a while.” Grif said, rubbing his arm. He looked over Sister’s shoulder to see Tucker walking over and Wash trailing behind him.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Tucker repeated Sister’s question. “Are you okay?” He asked a little softer than the first question after seeing the obvious bruise on Grif’s cheek.

“I’m fine. I got jumped on the way home Friday night.” Grif said while taking a seat at one of the tables, the others followed suit.

“But, where were you after that?” Wash spoke up.

“Well. I was pretty bad and then, uh, Simmons found me.” Grif said rubbing the back of his neck.

“Simmons?” Tucker sounded surprised, sitting forward in his chair. Grif just shrugged, not knowing what to say other than that.

“Do you know who did it?”

“When I was pushed out of a van some fuck said ‘The Swarm sends its regards.’ But no, Wash, I didn’t stop to ask for names while getting tortured.”

“The Swarm.” Wash said, sitting back in his chair obviously deep in thought.

“You know them?” Tucker asked.

“Well-” Wash was cut off by the door opening. All four employees of the Blue Bowl were about to chorus in telling the intruders that they were closed before they saw that it was Simmons, Donut, and Doc.

“Oh. It’s you guys.” Tucker said a little resigned.

“Grif! How are you doing?” Donut asked, rushing over to the table they occupied.

“I’m fine, Donut. Wash, you were saying?”

“The Swarm is a gang that works for a man named Locus, and they’re notorious for being nearly invisible. If you know about The Swarm you’re either with them, or you’re wanted by them.” Wash explained.

“Oh,  ‘Locus’ ‘The Swarm’ I get it. Ha ha ha.” Grif commented, unamused.

Tucker asked, “So, wait. How do you know so much about them then?”

“I, um. Sorta used to be a member.” Wash confessed, looking down at his hands on the table.

“ _You_ were in a gang? That’s kinda hot.” Sister spoke up.

“Shut up, Kai.” Grif and Tucker said at the exact same time.

“I’m assuming,” Wash said, continuing on. “That they came after you as a warning, or maybe a threat. Usually they don’t mess with firebenders, because there’s only one thing they hate more than the Fire Nation.” He stopped there, everyone stared at him waiting for him to go on. He stayed silent until Grif finally snapped.

“What is it?” Grif nearly yelled, throwing his hands in the air. He then winced and rubbed his wrist, regretting the movement.

“Church.” Wash said simply. Again the table fell silent. Until Doc spoke up for the first time, “You mean that idiot from the Water Tribe?”

“No, I thought that was Caboose.”

“It’s Water Tribe, they live in _igloos_. Pretty sure they’re all idiots.” Simmons mumbled slightly, rolling his eyes.

“What did you say about Water Tribe?” Tucker glared, being a from Water Tribe himself.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Will you apologize to your moon god for me?” Grif snickered at Simmons insult and tried to cover it up with a cough.

“She’s not- She became the moon to save the balance. I think.” Tucker stopped, looking more confused than angry anymore.

“Can we get back to the fact that some ass thinks Church is _scarier_ than me?” Grif looked to Wash, obviously wanting an explanation.

“Church used to be the leader of The Swarm. But then one day he disappeared. Along with Tex and a few others. I was left out of the loop and then this Locus guy walked in and declared himself king. A lot of people didn’t like the way Locus ran things, me included. A close friend of mine, Connie, and I wanted to get out. I did and she died trying.”

“So now Church, your ex gang leader, hangs out with you, a now restaurant owner. Am I getting this right?” Doc asked. Everyone shrugged and nodded, not bothering to answer verbally. After a few minutes of nobody talking, Sister excused herself to make some tea, kissing Grif on the forehead and ruffling his hair before she left.

“One last question.” Grif announced, breaking everyone out of their thoughts. He looked at Donut with an exhausted expression. “What the _fuck_ did you do to piss off The Swarm?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait. Lots of stuff got in the way but I hope it was worth the wait!! <3


	5. Story Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donut tried to repay what his friend did for him, the price is just more than he bargained for.

This story started with, like most during the war; a boy, his friend, and the Fire Nation. It wasn’t an easy life for Donut, his mother died at birth, father taken away for not being able to afford rent. It sometimes seemed like Donut couldn’t catch a break.

And still things got worse, one day minding his own business little ten-year-old Donut got picked on by some Fire Nation soldier. And when Simmons butted in to save Donut’s life, he got his arm burnt to a crisp. The fire bender just left them in the street, though, to Donut, he did look remorseful for how far badly he tortured the kids.

The doctor that Simmons’ parents took him to told them that trying to mend the arm would be no use. He resorted to cutting it off, leaving thirteen-year-old Simmons with one arm. To compensate for it, Simmons found an earthbending teacher, to help him excel in his skills.

Donut would watch for hours on the sidelines as Simmons and a man who only liked to be called ‘Sarge’ trained.

Of course, none of this so far has had anything to do with a gang, Donut didn’t even know of The Swarm until a few years later.

 

Donut, now fifteen, worked as an assistant to a healer, though Simmons told Donut he doubted how well Doc’s training was. Things were finally looking okay, Simmons was practically a pro at bending, and he was almost completely used to the whole one arm thing. But Donut still felt a pang of guilt every time he helped Simmons cut off one of the sleeves on his shirts, or every time someone stared too long at Simmons,

He started to look for a way to help his friend, asking around for anything. Donut didn’t even know what he was looking for, luckily (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it)  the answer found him.

Walking from work one day, Donut walked past an alley. “Psst, hey kid.” Someone called from said alley. Donut stopped, looking around to see if the voice was meant for someone else. “No, pipsqueak, I’m talkin’ to you.”  A man walked out of the darkness.

“Who are you?” Donut asked a little nervously.

“Name’s Felix. Word on the street is you wanna help your armless friend.”

“He has one arm” Donut corrected the man.

“Yeah, whatever. We can help him, so long as you return the favor.”  

“And what exactly would I have to do?”

To this, Felix smirked.

“Simmons, guess what.”

“What?” He asked, turning around in his chair to look at the blond teenager sitting on his bed.

“I found a way to get your arm back.” Donut smiled, putting his arms behind his head.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

“That means, I know a guy who can teach you how to metal bend.”

He stared at the younger boy for a moment, “There’s only, like, three people in the world that know how to metal bend.” Simmons stated.

“Well then, _one_ of those three are going to teach you.” Donut replied as he stood up. “Why aren’t you jumping up and down with joy?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how you possibly met a metal bender.”

“What does it _matter_? Just accept my gift, Simmons.” He crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip just slightly, and Simmons caved.

 

So as Simmons learned how to metal bend, Donut smuggled drugs and weapons in and out of Ba Sing Se. Because, to quote Felix, no one would suspect such an innocent looking kid.

He never learned what happened to the things he smuggled, he never found out who exactly the weapons Donut brought into the walls of his city killed. He only did as he was told until Simmons was able to metal bend his own prosthetic arm.  And he never got caught.

“How does it even work?” Donut asked one day after Simmons came home with a prototype, you could call it.

“Well, it has straps so I won’t have to constantly work to keep it on my shoulder, but other than  that I just bend it so it does what I want. Here watch.” He tried to demonstrate for Donut, picking up a cup and then putting it back down.

His movements were choppy and mechanic and Donut told him so, “Well, _duh_. I haven’t completely mastered it yet.

Donut prayed inwardly that Simmons would get better at it soon. He had no idea how much longer he could put up with the smuggling.

The day came, nearly a year and a half later, the day came when Simmons deemed himself a metal bender. His arm moved as fluidly as his real one, and he was so happy that for a moment, the grief Donut was building up doing his job for The Swarm disappeared.

He spoke with Felix that night and the next day he was free. But it was just so easy, for months Donut worried himself sick that one of Felix’s men would come after him.

No one ever did. Not for years, so long that Donut stopped worrying, stopped looking over his shoulder every time he turned a corner. He could finally breathe.

Of course that couldn’t last forever. And Donut really has no idea why, but The Swarm changed there mind. They gave him an ultimatum; join us or else. But Donut refused and he’s only been barely avoiding to pay the price ever since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am sososo sorry about not updating regularly, I haven't touched a computer in weeks:( Hope you all enjoyed it though.


	6. Thank God For The Buddy System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash comes up with a plan and Grif runs into an old acquaintance.

“ _Fuuuck_ , dude.” Tucker said, putting his hands behind his head. The entire table was pretty blown away. Aside from Donut, who looked exhausted just from telling the story, and Simmons who was very obviously avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table. Tucker then turned to Wash and commented, “So you must be, like, ten years older than Donut.”

“Of course that’s what you get from the story. God, that is just like you.” Wash replied annoyed.

“Well that’s what happens when you refuse to tell me how old you are. C’mon like at least thirty-two right? How long did Locus lead the gang after you left?”

“I don’t know seven, maybe eight years.” Wash said with a shrug.

“So what do we do now?” Doc asked, Grif looked at him a little confused as to when he became a part of the group.

Wash spoke up, because obviously the question was meant for him. “I say we. Pair up. That way no one is ever alone.”

“Wait,” Simmons stopped the man. “So your plan is to enforce the buddy system?”

“Got a better idea?”

Simmons thought for a moment before his shoulders drooped and he grumbled out a ‘no.’

“Doc, since you work with Donut you two should stick together.” Wash continued on.

“And me and Wash should probably partner up, because that seems like. The best thing to do.” Tucker said, Grif mouthed ‘wow’ at him and earned a glare.

“Obviously I got Kai.” Grif stated, he then realized that meant no one was with Simmons.

“ _Or_ ,” Tucker spoke up again. “Me, Wash, and Sister can be a group, and you can buddy up with Simmons.”

“But then I can’t be at work. Or Simmons can’t be at work.”

“Don’t worry I will give you a paid vacation ‘till this all blows over. It’ll be just the same if you were actually here.” Wash granted Grif a little condescendingly. Grif sneered, flipping his employer off.

“You can stay at my place again. If you want.” Simmons offered.

Grif looked to the red-head and nodded, “Yeah, good idea.” He turned back to Wash and Tucker. “Kai’s gunna have to stay with you two.”

“Bow chicka-”

“I swear to fucking God, Tucker.” Grif angrily cut him off.

“We’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.” Assured Wash. They sat for a while longer, though not really discussing much else. It started to get late so everyone got up, pushing in their chairs preparing to leave. Wash pulled out a key chain full of keys, leaving to go lock up the back door. Doc and Donut exit the building after saying goodbye to everyone.

Tucker walked over to where Grif was still sitting and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m really fucking glad you’re okay.”

Grif smiled crookedly. “Thanks, man.”

“I can take the couch. Since you’re still injured.” Simmons told Grif as they walked into the small house.

“It’s not even ten. Why are you going to sleep so early?” He questioned.

“I have work tomorrow. And being on time is a good thing.”

“About that, where exactly do you even work?” Grif took it upon himself to check Simmons’ fridge for anything to eat.

“A mechanic shop. Towards the center of the city.” Simmons explained from the couch.

“Ugh, I hate the center. People are so mean there.” He complained, sitting down at the table with an apple.

“It’s not so bad. Plus I don't really work up front, so we won’t see too many people.”  

“If you say so.” Grif commented lightly.

After a few moments Simmons asked, “What d’you think will happen next?”

He shrugged. “It’ll be like the stories. You know, we take down the bad guy and save the day. Get the girl.” Grif answered, his tone bored.

“There’s a girl?”

“There’s not a girl.”

“Is there a guy?” Simmons hesitated to ask.

“Simmons, are you trying to ask me if I’m single?” Grif smirked, raising an eyebrow at the earthbender.

“No-no, no.” He squeaked out, reddening in the face. “I just thought that you and that Tucker guy were kinda…” Simmons trailed off.

Grif scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Me and _Tucker_? That would be like having sex  with my brother.” After a moment of painfully awkward silence Grif added, “Plus it’s pretty damn obvious he’s in love with Mr. Uptight.” The confused look Simmons gave him made Grif elaborate. “Washington.”

“Oh.” Simmons said, then Grif could practically see the gears moving in his head, thinking over the gathering they’d had earlier that day. “ _Ohhhh_ ” He repeated, this time more understandingly.

The room lapsed into silence, Grif watched Simmons’ profile, noticing that Simmons moved on from thinking about Wash and Tucker. He didn’t understand how it was so easy to see the shift in Simmons’ thoughts, but the slight change in his expression made Grif realize something.

“You didn’t-Donut, he never told you about all that stuff, huh?” Grif asked, not so gracefully. Simmons looked to him, surprise and confusion were evident on his face.

His expression quickly changed to a more hurt one, looking down at his lap, Simmons crumpled in on himself. “I had no idea. All these years and I. I had no _fucking_ idea what I’d done to him.”

“Don’t think like that. You didn’t force him to do anything. And he thought he was doing the right thing.” Grif consoled the redhead with what he believed to be the absolute truth. After the time he’d had to think it over, Grif had already come to the conclusion. No one was to blame, except the Swarm.  

Simmons met Grif’s gaze once again, but this time Grif couldn’t tell what he was thinking. There were so many emotions swimming in those green eyes that Grif couldn’t see any of them long enough to figure out what they were.

Then, almost all at once, Simmons snapped out of it, sitting up straighter and giving a blank stare.  “It’s getting late.” He said like the two hadn’t just had a moment. “We should probably get to bed.”

Grif stared at him, confused at how quick Simmons changed. With a heavy sigh, Grif stood up, knowing that there was no point trying to argue. “Yeah, whatever.” He said as indifferently as he could.

With one foot in the doorway of the bedroom, Grif paused when he heard Simmons voice again. “Goodnight, Grif.” And it was almost too quiet to hear. Almost.

He continued on into the room without replying.

 

The sign that hung above to door to Simmons workplace read ‘Red Iron’ in faded red paint. It looked as if it had been there since before the war started, with all the chips and cracks in the board.

Grif walked in before Simmons, stopping just in front of the door and barely giving any room for Simmons to get in as well. What Grif saw was a long, narrow room with a counter on the right wall that took up about half of the space. Behind the counter was a lot of shelves, filled with such a wide variety of different things that Grif was confused on what Red Iron actually did. He also noticed a door on the back wall that he assumed was where Simmons worked.

Just as Grif was about to look away from the door, it opened. Who came out surprised Grif more than anything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

“Ah, Simmons there you-” An almost painfully gruff voice cut off as he took notice of who was standing at the front of his store.

“You?!” Grif’s eyes were wide.

“What in Sam’s hell!” Sarge yelled. “Simmons! What are you doin’ bringing scum like this into my store?” He turned to his employee.

“Wha- How do you two even _know_ each other?” Simmons looked absolutely baffled.  

“This fuck’s the guy who got me into the city.”

“Don’t make it sound like it was a favor. You threatened my life!” Though the man that Grif never learned the name of sounded angry, the initial shock of meeting Grif again obviously wore off as he walked behind the counter, shaking his head and grumbling something about ‘dirtbag firebenders.’

“Back room. Now.” Simmons ordered Grif who scoffed at Simmons’ back as he watched him walk away. Grif then realised it was either go with Simmons or stay with a man he once threatened. He was quick to follow after that thought.

“So… Wanna explain?” Simmons asked when Grif finally walked in. He was sat at the table working on some small contraption with a screwdriver.

He took a seat across from Simmons, watching him work. “Getting into Ba Sing Se as a minor is tough, dude. Especially a firebending minor. I needed someone older and from the city to sneak me and Kai in. Even if he said no, I was never gunna actually hurt him.” Grif finished, feeling like he was on trial.

“It’s just hilarious to think Sarge was scared of _you_ as a teenager.”

“Hey, I’m a pretty menacing guy. Ya know I hear that I have an entire gang after me.” He shrugged a shoulder. Simmons snickered at his joke and Grif felt proud he was able to make the earthbender laugh. Then something hit Grif. “Wait. ‘Sarge?’ As in the Sarge from Donut’s story?”

“Yeah. Working in his shop was kind of part of the way I paid for training. After that I just kinda. Continued working here.” Grif nodded, sitting back in his chair. They continued to talk on and off for the rest of the day, about everything and nothing. Just to help pass the time.

In the bathroom of Simmons’ house, Grif let out a frustrated sigh. He’d been trying (and failing) for nearly half an hour now to change his bandages.

There was a knock at the door, then Simmons’ voice. “Do you need help?”

Grif opened the door and nodded. The corner of Simmons’ mouth tilted up as he said “C’mon, this’ll be easier in the bedroom.”

Now, Grif sat on the bed as Simmons kneeled in front of him, gently unwrapping the dirty gauze on Grif’s wrist and replacing it. “There, the easy part is done.” He moved on to reaching behind Grif to find where the gauze wrapped around Grif’s waist started and once again gently unraveled the fabric. The gashes on Grif’s back and stomach were much more gruesome than any injury he’d ever had.

Simmons’ real hand ran across Grif’s back as he finished rebandaging Grif up, making them both pause. The firebender looked down into Simmons’ eyes and something, Grif didn’t know what, made him push a lock of hair behind Simmons’ ear, leaving his hand on the side of his face. They were only inches apart, Grif was having serious deja vu about the dream he’d had not too long ago.

He was just about to move forward when Simmons beat him to the punch, pushing himself up slightly with his hands on the bed on either side of Grif’s lap. At first, it was hesitant and slow, like Simmons as still unsure.

Grif moved his other hand so it was tangled in Simmons hair. He felt Simmons sigh against his lips, the warm air brushing his skin. It was all almost _too_ perfect. Simmons moved his hands from where they were on the bed to Grif’s sides, the cool metal of his prosthetic arm made Grif flinch.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Simmons mumbled, moving his hand away. Grif shook  his head, grabbing Simmons’ hand and placing it back on his hip.

“S’fine.” He said, trailing kisses down Simmons’ neck, then biting down softly onto his collar bone. The moan that fell out of Simmons' mouth told Grif that the action was appreciated.

Grif knew they couldn’t go any further, not with his injuries. He was still disappointed when a knocking at the front door made them pull apart.

 


	7. We've Got Sand For Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So running away is our only option."

They pulled apart slowly, Simmons’ eyes were wide, pupils blown. “We should just ignore them.” Grif tried to sound convincing. He still had his hands tangled in Simmons’ hair.

“It might be important.” Simmons said, being the voice of reason. He got up, Grif’s hands dropped into his lap and stood up as well. He picked his shirt up off the ground and pulled it on as they both walked out of the bedroom.

Simmons opened the door to find Tucker and Wash on the other side.

“Hey.” Grif said, a little confused, he hadn't seen the two in just under a week.

“What are you guys doing here?” Simmons asked, Grif wondered if he only imagined the hint of annoyance in Simmons' tone.

“We gotta have another meeting. We came up with a plan.” Tucker answered, looking around Simmons’ small home with intrigued eyes.

“Actually, _I_ came up with a plan.” Wash corrected him.

“You want us all to go to Kyoshi Island. What, should we _walk_ there? We don’t exactly have the kind of money to pay for any sort of transportation.” Simmons argued as the entire group sat in the back room of the Red Iron, much like the meeting they’d had just under a week ago at the Blue Bowl.

“Well we don’t have much of an option. I’ve gotten word that Church is currently there, and he’s adamant on staying there for a while. I don’t know why.” Washington said.

“God, how many fucking miles is that anyway?” Tucker asked, a painful grimace on his face.

“It’s just from here to the coast, and then we can catch a boat ride to the Island.”

“What do we even need to talk to Church about?” Donut asked.

“We can’t try and fight a gang on our own. We have to do something.” Wash explained.

“So running away is our only option.” Was the first thing Grif had said at this meeting.

“No. Getting backup is.” Wash stated firmly, he then gave a hesitant look at Donut before continuing on.  “While I was looking for information on where Church was, I found out that people have been dropping like flies. Whether that’s falling off the radar or turning up dead. And it’s nothing random. The Swarm is picking off any and all people that have ever worked for them at anytime. If they refuse to join the Swarm, they get killed.”

For almost a full minute, no one talked. Grif stared at Wash, realizing that a man that’d helped him so much over the past years would soon be targeted by the Swarm. Grif clenched his fists under the table.

“Alright,” Grif spoke, gaining everyone’s attention. “We go to Kyoshi, ask for Church’s help. Come back, fight the Swarm. And we-” Grif stopped abruptly, realizing one crucial fact. “Fuck.” He cursed, looking down at table.

“A little kinky, don’t you think?” Tucker asked, looking crossed between wanting to laugh at his own joke and curious as to what Grif was thinking about.

“I can’t leave Ba Sing Se.” He said, shaking his head slowly. “Or Kai." He looked to his sister. "I- neither of us have any papers. We left the Fire Nation with literally nothing. If I get out I won’t be able to get back in.” Grif explained. He looked at Simmons who was frowning slightly.

Washington shook his head, giving a lopsided smile. “I know a guy in the Guard. Don’t worry, it’ll all work out.”

 

Grif and Simmons walked back into the house, though the meeting was fairly brief compared to the first , the two were drained.

Simmons was heading for the sofa when Grif spoke up. “Hey, you’ve been sleeping on that thing all week. I’ll take the couch and you take the bed.” He offered.

“Grif, I can’t do that, you’re still pretty banged up.”

“Sleeping on a couch isn’t gunna kill me. Now get outta here.” Grif ordered, taking off his sweater. He watched as Simmons reluctantly walked towards the bedroom, but then he stopped in his tracks and turned back to face Grif.

“I have a pretty small home.” Simmons stated.

“Uhm, yeah?” Grif agreed.

“But. My bed is kind of big.” He continued on, his voice cracked. “So maybe we could. Share it.” Simmons held Grif’s gaze as he talked. Though he sounded determined, Grif could see the bush on Simmons’ cheeks.

Grif smiled, feeling the hum of worry that had built up during the meeting leave him.

They were up before dawn, deciding to get an early start on their long journey. Grif was still complacent from waking up with Simmons in his arms, so he tried to keep his bitching and moaning to a minimum. At least for a little while.

They reached the wall and Grif hadn't been this close to the edge of Ba Sing Se since he first entered the city. It was a strange feeling, seeing the lines where the new rock met old, from the wall being rebuilt in places.

Simmons nudged Grif’s shoulder with his own, once he gained Grif’s attention Simmons mouthed you okay? Grif nodded, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“I’m fine.” He murmured quietly so the rest of the group wouldn’t hear.

Wash lead the pack, he stopped at a guard who had his back turned to them, he dressed in his Earth Kingdom uniform. “Hello, Florida.”

The officer spun on his heel, looking surprised but not frightened. “Washington.” Was all Florida said, a wide smile now on his face. “Been a long time since anyone’s called me that. It’s Flowers now, haven’t you heard?”

“Yeah, I have. How ‘bout I just call you Butch?”

“How would you like it if I called you David?” Flowers countered. Grif could practically hear Wash cringe.

“ _David_?” Tucker asked in a high pitched, wildly excited voice. Washington ignored him.

“So I assume you didn’t come here to reconnect with an old friend. Need to leave the city?” Flowers asked, looking at everyone in Wash’s group. “I’ll need to see ID.”

“The thing is-” Flowers interrupted Wash with a sigh. “Two of my friends don’t have an ID. But we need to get out of the city, and back in in about a week.”

“It’s always something with you, Wash.”

Grif sighed in relief as he and the others watched the high walls open. The left Ba Sing Se with the farewell of Flowers telling them to have a safe trip.

 

It was a lot of desert. Grif had probably stopped to pour out the sand from his shoes a million times.

“You know, I thought you were whiney before, but, God, this is a whole new level.” Simmons said as the crossed yet another sand dune.

“I can’t help it. I’m like literally dying of heat.” Grif panted, wiping sweat of his brow.

“You’re a firebender!” Tucker threw his arms up in confusion.

“Yeah, I know. How ironic.” Grif replied.

“No, that’s not ironic. Ironic would be if high temperatures made you cold.” Simmons corrected.

“Ironic would be if Grif needed to be cold to produce fire.” Donut said.

“Actually, I think it would be ironic if-”

Doc was cut off by Wash groaning, “Oh my god. Would you all _please shut up._ ”

Everyone was quiet for a while after that.

It wasn’t until the moon was shining brightly that they stopped for the night.

“We need a fire.”  Wash stated.

“We’re in the desert, there isn’t any wood here.” Simmons said, he then looked at Grif. “Oh.”

“You still have a point. If there isn’t any wood then I have to stay up all night to keep the fire going.” Grif looked annoyed at the thought.

“Sucks for you, dude.” Tucker said unapologetically.

About an hour later, everyone but Grif slept. He sat at length away from the fire, making sure that it was close enough to his sleeping friends.Though he would guess that it was at least ten degrees below zero it didn’t bother him. Not like the freezer he’d been held captive in. Grif shuttered thinking about that night.

To get his mind off of it, Grif started messing with the fire creating shapes and letters and trying, but failing, to change its color. He wondered if he could get the fire hot enough to create glass from the sand, he was about to try but then Grif realized that it probably wasn’t a smart thing to do near so many people.

Grif lost count of how many times he had to stop himself from asking Simmons to keep him company. He let his focus shift from the fire to the earthbender sleeping beside him, because the position Grif was in all he could see was the top of Simmons head. He lifted ran a hand through Simmons hair, careful not to wake him.

Grif’s precautions were rendered useless, Simmons shifted onto his back and looked up at Grif with wide awake eyes.

Pulling his hand back, Grif’s fire shrunk by half from surprise. As the fire regrew he asked, “Have you been awake the whole time?”

“On and off, yeah.” Simmons said, reaching for Grif’s hand.

“Why didn't you say anything. I’ve been bored out of my fucking mind.”

“I was going to, but then you started doing tricks, and I thought you might stop if I was awake.” He sounded a little nervous as he spoke.

Grif muttered an _oh_ , looking back at said fire.

They were quiet for a while, Simmons laid there playing with Grif’s hand. “You should tell me about the Fire Nation.” He requested.

“What do you want to know?” Grif asked, surprised that Simmons would even bring it up.

Simmons pushed himself up so he was sitting criss-crossed next to Grif. “I dunno, why did you come here?”

For a while Grif didn’t know how to answer. Nothing sounded right in his head. “I never knew my dad, he died at war just after Kai was born. And my mom worked, but she was a drunk so really we never had enough to pay the bills. Eventually she was thrown in jail for, fucking I don’t even know, I’ve always assumed it was her not paying taxes.

After that I had to take care of Kai. I was maybe thirteen. We got by, for almost three years, then I got in this, fuck, this _stupid_ fight.  Made too much noise and people started asking why I wasn’t a soldier. I never want to hear the phrase ‘like your father,’ ever again.”

Grif let out a deep breath, watching the sun climb the sand hills. “It was beautiful there, though.” He absent mindedly started to draw pictures in the sand. “Like, there was this little creek that I spent literally all my time at. If I had to go back there for any reason, it would be to visit that tiny little river.” Grif cleared his throat and let the fire die, deciding the sun would be up soon enough. “I’m gunna sleep for a few hours. Are you going back to sleep?”

“No, I think someone should stay up.”

Grif shrugged, lying down with his head in Simmons lap. Just as Grif was falling a sleep, Simmons softly said, “Thanks for telling me.”

It must have been a mirage. Grif could finally see the coast, it was beautiful the way the blue sea poured into the endless sand. Grif, along with the rest of the group, had to restrain himself from jumping into the water.

“So we’re here. How do we get over there?” Tucker asked pointing at one of the islands.

“Sarge loves to go out to sea, but he never really has the chance. So he has this guy, Lopez, take care of his ship and all that stuff. But, uh, he kinda doesn’t speak any english.” Simmons explained as they made their way to the docks.

“What does he speak?” Wash asked.

“I have no idea.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been a while. I had so much trouble with writers block on this chapter but I'm glad to finally have it done. Thanks for reading!


	8. Boat Rides and Bonfires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to Kyoshi looking for answers. So far? They only have more questions.

Grif loved boat rides. He found the rocking of the ship made sleeping even easier, which was really saying something.

The group was just stepping onto the wooden dock as Grif plotted ways to sneak away once they get on the ship so he could sleep for the entire ride. Maybe Grif didn’t even need to leave the boat, they could deal with Church without him, right?

“It’s this one.” Simmons pointed out from beside Grif. The ship was nothing special; the tall sail had a red skull and crossbones painted on it, the body of the ship was painted black with red lettering.

“Red Glory?” Wash asked, reading the side of the boat.

“Sarge isn’t the most poetic person in the world.” Simmons shrugged.

The boat was even smaller once everyone was on it. Grif was starting to feel that his plans weren’t as doable as he thought.

“Lopez, hey man.” Simmons said to the very tall and tan skinned man. Wearing a brown shirt that was ripped at the sleeves, and pair of very dirty pants; Grif would not say Lopez was a pirate.

At least not to his face.

“No otra vez.” _Not you again_.

Grif exchanged looks with Wash and Tucker. Tucker shrugged.

“Good to see you too, man.” Simmons said, a little unsurly.

“Que no es lo que dije” _That’s not what I said_.

The dead stare Lopez gave Simmons made the earthbender shy away from him.

Sister, from behind everyone, cleared her throat. She rolled her eyes when no one noticed and, with a sigh, she pushed to the front of the group.

“Hola , yo y mis amigos estúpidos necesito para llegar a la Isla Kyoshi . ¿Puedes hacer eso?” _Hi, me and my stupid friends need to get to Kyoshi Island. Can you do that?_ She asked Lopez eloquently.  

Everyone, including Lopez, looked at her in shock.

“Where the hell did you learn another language?” Grif asked.

“Uh, school? While you were skipping everyday I actually went.” She explained, a smug smile on her face.

Lopez gave a long, withering look to the group as a whole, then walked towards the other end of the ship, raising the sail.

Not long thereafter, the ship was moving west and Kyoshi grew bigger as they got closer.

Sister was trying, and failing, to have a conversation with Lopez. Wash was patting Tucker’s back as he leaned over the railing to throw up. Donut was laid out, explaining to Doc that he was glad to finally have some tan time.

And Grif and Simmons stood at the bow of this ship, their hands overlapping on the railing as they watched the sun fall behind the outline of the island.

“Oh god,” Tucker moaned as they stepped off Red Glory. “I need a cigarette.” He pulled out his pack, then patted down his pockets. “Are you _fucking_ kidding me? I forgot matches.” Tucker turned to Wash

“Don’t look at me. Why would I have matches?” Wash replied to his pleading look.

“Grif!” Tucker exclaimed, “You walking lighter, please. I _need_ you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Grif said, flickering his gaze to Simmons for only half a second. “We’re in Kyoshi now; not exactly firebender friendly lands.”

They were on the outskirts of town, and Tucker pointed this out. “No body’s here. C’mon.” He put the cigarette to his lips and waited. WIth a sigh, Grif obliged, leaning over and snapping his fingers just at the end of the stick. His flame was weak, and Grif quickly lit it to hide the fact that he was exhausted.

“There. Happy?” Grif asked with a roll of his eyes. His eyes landed on the dock they’d only walked off of a few minutes ago. “Uhh, guys? Lopez is leaving.” Grif pointed to Red Glory, already a good ways away from shore.

“What? Crap, no one told him to wait for us.” Simmons realized.

“I guess we find another way back.” Donut said.

Wash sighed, looking (as he usually did) annoyed. “Lets just rest, then look for Church in the morning, okay?”

It was Grif’s job to find firewood, not a hard job since they were out of the desert. He already had a pretty big pile when he heard something move behind him.

“Okay, Tucker. I would like you to stop sneaking up on me.” He requested, turning around. Who he saw was definitely not Tucker. Grif swallowed hard. “I’m gunna guess you guys aren’t friendly.” Grif said to the group of Kyoshi warriors surrounding him.

They almost all looked the same, their armor and make-up all identical. But one of the warriors in particular stood out, this one was taller than the rest and she had fiery red hair peeking out from her gold headband.

“The last time a firebender step foot on our island, it burned to the ground.” She informed him. “You’re coming with us.”

For a second, Grif thought about shouting. He was definitely close enough to the group for them to hear him, but he quickly banished that thought. Why would he want to put the rest of them in harms way?

Once again, Dexter Grif found himself bound in rock cuffs. One of the warriors, at Ms. Redhead’s command, stomped on the ground once and the rocks flew up to Grif’s wrists, keeping his arms together and in front of him.

“Any point in asking where you’re taking me?” Grif asked, though he hadn’t been blindfolded it was already too dark to see, so he had no idea where they were leading him.

Grif wasn’t given a reply. “You know, I thought that you guys had made up with firebenders. Wasn’t there a few on your team, or whatever?”

“Someone shut him up.” The redhead said annoyed, the only indication that they were actually listening to him.

“Fine, but I’m not carrying him.” Said another one of the girls.

Grif only had a moment to think about how, really, he hadn’t said much, and wasn’t being as much of a nuisance as he could’ve been. A hard thunk on his head cut off the thought.

He awoke to a scene all too familiar. “Fuck.” Grif breathed. “Oh, _fucking_ not again. _Please_.” He begged the restraints on his hands that were tied behind his chair. As he pulled as hard as he could, Grif realized he couldn’t see his own breath.

He wasn’t in the freezer. With a sigh of relief, the panic subsided only a little, remembering how he got there. “God, fuck. What if the Kyoshi assholes are worse than the Swarm?” He asked the empty, escapeless room. No windows or doors. The room was made of rock so Grif assumed it took an earthbender to get in or out.

Grif had no way of knowing how long he sat there. Judging by the the growing dryness of his throat from lack of water, it could’ve been hours.

Then a portion of the wall fell away and a blinding light entered the room. Fresh air filled Grif’s lungs as he blinked.

“This is the firebender.” It was the redhead’s voice. She walked in, but now she wore normal clothes, and her face was clean of make-up.

Behind her was.

Wait. Grif blinked his eyes again. What?

“ _Church_?” Grif asked, incredulously.

“Grif? What are you- What?” Church’s confused voice filled the small room. Grif had never felt so relieved.

“Oh, thank God, Church. You’ve come to save me. I have never been so happy to see your ugly face.” Grif gushed out, almost literally on the verge of tears.

“You know this guy?” The girl asked over Grif’s rambling.

“I-yeah, of course. Carolina, you must have something wrong. Grif’s not a firebender. I’ve known him for years.” Church defended the still tied up man.

Church’s comment stopped Grif cold. That was the first time Grif realised that Church didn’t know where Grif came from.

“Church, I meant to tell you,” Grif explained. At the same time Carolina stated, “Yes, he definitely is.”

Grif continued on, “It’s not like we actively kept it from you, you’re just not in Ba Sing Se very often. And when you were it just never seemed like the right time.”

“‘We?’” Church asked, causing Grif to flinch.

“Uh… Wash and Tucker maybe, sorta, kind of. Know already.”

“I’m the last one to find out?!”

He ignored the question. “You just said it yourself: you’ve known me for years. I just also happen to be a firebender. Now, please, fucking get me out of here.” Grif pleaded.

Church stared at Grif for a long time, long enough to make it a little awkward. He then sighed heavily and turned to Carolina, “Let him go.” He said simply.

The woman looked shocked. “Church, he’s a firebender.” She said as if that was reason enough.

“Yeah, but he’s _Grif_. And if you knew Grif like I do, then you would know that he’s too fucking lazy to try and burn anything down.” Church vouched for Grif.

“It’s true. I would have gone to sleep while I was tied up if I wasn’t totally afraid I’d wake up with your makeup crap all over my face.”

Carolina glared at Grif. “That is traditional war paint, it would be a privilege for you to wear it.”

Both Grif and Church rolled their eyes in unison. “Go grab Grey and tell her to uncuff him.” Church ordered, and for a moment Carolina hesitated, having an entire conversation with Church via eye contact that Grif guessed went something like:

Carolina: _He’s a danger._

Church: _No, he’s gunna eat everything, but I highly doubt he’d hurt anyone._

Carolina: _You’re trusting a firebender, Church._

Church _: No, I’m trusting a friend._

But Grif might have been embellishing. Just a little.

Carolina stalked out of the room, arms crossed. Once gone, Church turned back to Grif. “So, what the fuck are you doing in Kyoshi?”

Grif cleared his throat. “See, about that. I am being targeted by the Swarm and need your help.” He threw out the words, looking up at Church.  

The look on Church’s face was a cross between worried, confused, and surprised. “You know about the Swarm?”

Before Grif could answer, the cuffs released him, though no one entered the room. Along with the cuffs went the stone chair Grif sat on, causing him to fall flat on his back. “I hate Kyoshi warriors.” Grif groaned.

“And they _really_ hate you.” Church laughed.

It took a while, which was surprising because Kyoshi isn’t even that big, but eventually Grif found the others. He was accompanied by Church, a few warriors, and Caboose, who was very happy to see Wash again.

 _“WASHINGTON!”_ Caboose yelled as he ran towards the unsuspecting man. For a moment Wash looked ready to fight an oncoming threat until he realized that it was only Caboose. Wash was then tackled to the ground.

“Where the fuck did you go this time?!” Tucker asked, annoyed. Which kind of pissed Grif off.

“Your stupid ass couldn’t go a few fucking days without a fucking cigarette. So I got abducted by Church’s fucking guard dogs for giving you a fucking light. Thanks.” Grif crossed his arms, waiting for an apology. Instead, Tucker turned to Church, noticing him for the first time.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the leader of a freaking gang? That is so cool, why would you hide that?” Tucker looked as if he’d completely forgotten that it was his fault Grif was abducted.

Rolling his eyes, Grif walked a few feet away from the now very large group standing on the beach.

Sister was with the three warriors, she looked very excited about whatever they were talking about. Caboose was talking to Wash with a lot of hand gestures, as Wash patted off the sand from his clothes. Doc stood at the shore, watching Donut who rolled up his pants and waded out into the water.

And Simmons was sitting a few yards away from Doc, taking in the scene just like Grif.

“Hey” Grif said as he sat down beside him.

Simmons only nodded. “If you disappear again, I’m going to kill you.” Simmons commented nonchalantly after a few minutes of silence.

“I think Sarge would like that.” Grif replied.

They said nothing for a while, letting the noise from the people around them fill the air.

“You’re not gunna tell me you were worried for me?” Grif asked, smirking. 

Simmons opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Church calling them over to a bundle of wood the Kyoshi warriors were adding to.

“Guess you can tell me later.” Grif said as Simmons helped him up.

They all sat around a fire that Grif, thankfully, didn’t have to start. At this point, Grif didn’t know if he had it in him.

The circle was wide, consisting of twelve people. The warriors had left and returned in civilian clothing. Grif wondered if they had finally realized he wasn’t a threat.

“So.” Church said as the Kyoshi warriors returned. “We have a lot to talk about. First of all-”

Wash cut Church off. “Grey?” He asked the woman sitting next to Carolina, Grif was pretty sure she was the earthbender that put him in cuffs.

“Do I know you?” She asked with a confused smile.

“No, but I know you. Or _of_ you, from my days in the Swarm. What are you doing with the Kyoshi warriors?" He narrowed his eyes. 

 "She is a member of my team." Carolina spoke up for Grey. “So what exactly are you trying to say?”

Wash didn’t break eye contact with Grey. “Well. If Felix is Locus’ right hand man, then Dr. Grey is Locus’ left hand woman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I am so sorry for my shitty updating habits. I'm trying to get better at it I promise. I do have a very important question that I'd like feedback on. Do you guys want smut in this fic? Honestly I'm not leaning to heavily either way so I'm leaving it up to who ever wants to comment on it and I'll go with the majority.  
> Please tell me how you feel about it and Thanks for reading!


	9. Bad Excuses, Better Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before there was The Swarm, there was Project Freelancer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple switches in POV, at first it's Church's for a bit, then Wash's.

Grif sat there in the sand, worriedly looking between Wash, the Kyoshi warriors, and Church. Grif had the inkling that Carolina wouldn't take an accusation like that too kindly. No one said anything, tensely waiting for Church to speak.

Church internally swore. To himself, to the situation, and to Wash’s uncanny ability to stumbleupon secrets he wasn’t suppose to know.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering something Tex had said to him often, _“You’re hair’s gunna go completely gray by thirty if you don’t stop stressing so much.”_

Well now he was well over thirty and only had a few gray hairs in his beard. Probably, it’s just because he loved to prove her wrong.

Even if she wasn’t around to see it.

Church opened his eyes, realizing everyone was waiting for him. Grey looked anxious, Carolina looked utterly pissed.

Church sighed, deciding to tell the truth. “Grey is a spy. I needed to keep tabs on PFL after I left. What better way to do that than with the unsuspecting gang doctor.”

“You’re using _my_ warriors?” Carolina asked incredulously, making Church flinch.

“No, no, not all of them. Just Grey.

“Wait, what's PFL?” Tucker asked.

“‘Project Freelancer.' It’s what The Swarm was called before Church left." Wash answered, "So let me get this straight. Instead of using someone you know, someone you trusted for years, who was always on the chart. You decided to use someone who was never even in Project Freelancer?” He sounded close to a mental break down.

Church knew he needed to defuse the bomb that was Agent Washington. It was this reason that Wash was his worst best freelancer. Wash was quick to understand the situation, but he was too loyal.

Church cut the red wire, hoping that it doesn't explode in his face. “This was the best way. They knew your connections to me, and to the Project. If they had even the slightest idea that you were still working for me, they would have killed you.”

A heavy silence filled the air, the only sound coming from the crackling fire.

“Maybe we should talk about something we can actually work on. The Swarm. We gotta take them down.” Grif brought the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Carolina voiced, calmer than before.

“We cut off the head of the snake. Or insect, I guess.”  Doc said.

“So we get them thrown in jail?” Simmons asked. 

“No, no.” Wash shook his head. “They would get out of that too easily.” He stopped for a moment, looking at nothing in particular as he said, “We have to kill them.”

“We would never be able to get that close to them.” Church brought up.

Carolina agreed, “Even if we knew where The Swarm’s hideout was, we’re all connected to Church. And they know that.”

Donut contradicted her. “Well. All but one.” He said, gaining the group’s attention. “We just went over this didn’t we? No one knows that Grey works for Church. She could get us in.”

“But how?” Grey asked. “They now all of you. They’ve been pretty extensive on their research of you guys.” She looked at Grif. “When Locus found out that Wyoming had captured you, he was furious. Not because he gave away The Swarm’s identity to you. But because Wyoming had let you go.”

It was only when Grey brought it up that Church noticed the bandage wrapped around Grif’s wrist, and the yellowish-green bruise on his cheek. Church inspected Grif, seeing if he had any other noticeable injuries. He also noticed, that as Grey talked about Grif’s run in with The Swarm, Simmons moved his hand over Grif’s balled up fist.

“That means they want us, so why not take us as prisoners?” Grif asked.

“That’s. That’s a great idea.” Church stated with consternation.

“Well don’t act so surprised.”

“But.” Simmons said, “No offence, but she’s just one person. How believable is it if she brings in a group of people, which includes two skilled benders?”

“I could use the LTs!” She said, “They’re my subordinates, I guess you could say. There’s four of them, one is a waterbender.

“There’s already so many people in this mess. You want to drag in four more?” Wash chided her.

“No, but we need to get at least three or four of you into the compound if you want to kill Locus and Felix. It’s not going to be easy.” She paused before going on. “Plus. I know we can trust them.”

Wash opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by Church, who said, “If Grey says we can trust them, then we can.” Giving a meaningful look to Wash. Wash gave no reply.

“I think it’s really late. We should all get some sleep.” Church spoke again, looking around at everyone in the group, sighing slightly when his eyes land on Caboose, asleep in the sand. “Tomorrow we should be up bright and early, devise a more solid plan.” He turned to Carolina. “I’ll show them where they can sleep if you deal with Caboose?” Carolina nodded once. “Alright, if you will follow me.”

****  


Church directed them to a large, open building. They walked through a patio area in the middle of the house to get to a hallway filled with doors, five on each side of the hall.

Church stopped, motioning for them to go on. “Pick a room, there should enough blankets in each, but if not, just steal one from an empty room. Bathroom’s at the end of the hall, last door on the left.” He shrugged. “I’ll see you assholes in the morning.”

Wash watched as the group picked they’re rooms. He picked the one closest to the patio, putting his stuff down in the corner, then went to the bathroom.

He flicked light on, deeply sighing as he looked in the mirror. Wash looked exhausted, though he felt worse than he looked. Wash sighed again, looking away from himself to wash his face.

He left the bathroom without looking back at his reflection.

As Wash walked into his room, pulling off his shirt, Tucker cleared his throat.

“Oh, sorry.” Wash said, realizing he wasn’t alone. “Wrong room.” He was about to turn and walk out, but Tucker stopped him.

“No this is your room.” He said from inside the room.

“Then what are you doing here?” Wash asked, kicking off his shoes. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, waiting for Tucker’s answer. Said man was sitting comfortably on Wash’s bed,

“I thought you’d like. I dunno, wanna talk?” He stated a little awkwardly.

Innocently, Wash asked, “About what?” Tucker only gave him a knowing look. “I’m fine.” He lied. “Really.”

“Shut up, dude. We have to trust Grey if we’re gunna pull this off.” Tucker said seriously.

Wash moved to sit on the bed next to Tucker. “It’s not that I don’t trust her. I know she’s not lying. I. I just…” He trailed off.

“I get it, you don’t have to explain anything to me. Just remember that Church is a piece of shit, but he always tries to do what he thinks is best.” Tucker paused, thinking about it. “Even though, most of the time, it’s stupid.”

“You’re right.” He agreed. They didn’t say much after that, Tucker sat with his back against the wall that was next to the bed. Wash leaned back so he was laying down, legs hanging over the edge. He could feel Tucker’s eyes on him, but he didn’t bother calling Tucker on it.

“What did you guys even do?” Tucker asked randomly, just as Was was falling asleep.

“Hmm?”

“In Project, uh, Freelancer. What did you guys do?”

“A lot of stuff.” Wash tried for a shrug, but it was dark in the room so he wasn’t sure if Tucker saw. “At first it was simple things like stopping shipments from leaving the city; we never really left Ba Sing Se at the beginning. Then more and more, teams were sent out to stop some commotion the fire nation was making too close to the walls.” Wash yawned. “I was confused why we were doing all this stuff, helping the government. But York, another PFL member, well he said he was talking to Carolina and she let it slip that the missions were orders from the king. Apparently he was Church’s boss. I don’t know much about that though.” Wash concluded his sleepy explanation.

“Fuck, the king?” Tucker said, slightly in awe. “Have you ever killed anyone?” Wash opened one eye to look at Tucker in the dim light from the window.

“Couple times, yeah.”

“Fire Nation?”

Wash grunted in a way that wasn't a yes or a no. 

After a moment Tucker asked, “Do you miss it?”

“Killing?” Wash replied, smirking a bit.

Tucker kicked him, “No, asshole, the gang.”

Wash was quiet for a while, making Tucker feel nervous that he’d gone too far.

“I did. I think that’s why I stayed with The Swarm for so long. But it was just. So competitive.”

“So you’re cool with just being a restaurant owner now?”

“It’s not so bad. I like the Blue Bowl.”

“Of course, but your life did go from high adventure to serving people tea.”

“I think there’s still some adventure. We are about to get captured by the people that want us dead.”

“Good point.”

Grif knocked exactly three times, then nervously cracked his knuckles. He felt like a fucking teenager.

Simmons opened the door, “Hey.” He smiled. “Did you wanna,” Simmons nodded into his room.

Grif followed him into the room, taking a seat on the bed as Simmons closed the door.

“So.” Grif said.

“So.” Simmons replied sitting down, facing Grif.

“How likely is it we all survive?”

“Probably none of us will.” Simmons corrected himself; “No, Carolina will most likely make it out.

“Rhetorical question, Simmons.” Grif rolled his eyes.

“Oh, sorry.”

Grif sighed after a moment, saying, “We should probably get to sleep.”

“We should.” Simmons agreed, Grif didn’t make a move towards the door. “Did you wanna, maybe, stay here?”

“I thought that was implied.”

 

“So.” Carolina started once everyone was gathered around the table. “To infiltrate their base, we’ll need a diversion, the prisoners. While they are being questioned by Locus, and hopefully Felix as well, we send in the team to do the actual killing.”

Carolina stopped momentarily, letting people digest the plan. “Okay, we have five people within The Swarm to help us get in. But, Grey is only a doctor to the gang, she is a skilled earthbender but The Swarm doesn’t know that. So realistically, only four prisoners could be taken. This way, not only will we be inside the compound, but The Swarm will underestimate our bender’s powers.”

“Carolina. Just get to who’s going to be prisoners.” Church said.

Carolina sounded very cautious as she went on. “Well, we need them to create a big diversion, but we need them to be questioned, not killed right away. With that in mind, the prisoners are Grif, Simmons, Tucker, and Caboose.”

Caboose’s only reply was. “I’m present.”

“This isn’t a role call, Caboose.” Wash told him calmly.

“Okay,” He said, “But I still want everyone to know I’m here.”

Exasperated, Grif said, “We know.”

“You’re gunna send him into the headquarters of the most dangerous gang in the Earth Kingdom? What a great fucking idea.” Tucker rolled his eyes.

"Tucker has a point. Why not send me in instead?" Wash asked. 

Carolina looked like she was ready for this question. "We need you on infiltration with me and a few other warriors." Wash opened his mouth. "They'll be fine, Wash." She said over any of his arguments.  

“And Caboose is a good water bender.” Church added.

“So you’re sending all of the benders, and Tucker.” Simmons stated with a questioning look.

“Hey, fuck you. I am a _total_ bad ass with a sword.” Tucker defended himself.

“Tucker, where exactly do you expect to get a sword when we’re being held captive?” Grif asked.

“Actually,” Grey spoke. “I’ll have one of the LTs ‘accidentally’ leave one lying around during all the confusion of our break in.”

“You’ll only be keeping their attention long enough for us to break in. Grey, and her inside help, will work interference to make sure neither Felix nor Locus know what’s happening within the compound. It’s all pretty simple.” Carolina concluded.

“I literally hate Carolina.” Grif said monotonously. He was being lead down a path while (you guessed it) once again handcuffed.

“Do not be that way mister Grif. We are going to have lots of fun. It will be like an adventure!” Caboose said from behind him.

Grif looked at the man next to him, named Bitters, and pleaded. “Gag him, please. It will only make this easier.”

“I think Caboose has a point.” The Swarm member that was assigned to Caboose, Grif was pretty sure his name was Smith, said.

“Shut up, we’re getting close.” Bitters said with little emotion.

They’d been walking through tunnels under the city for a while when they opened up to a larger room. At the doorway stood two guards, both with swords and, Grif thought, they were probably benders as well.

“What’s your business?” One of the guards asked.

“We have prisoners, Locus is going to want to see with them personally.” The girl that had been paired with Simmons said.

“And Felix,” Bitters added.

“Why?” The other guard asked.

From the back of the line, from behind Church, Grey spoke, “We’ve got the Director. And his friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the hiatus, I got caught up with school and work and everything. But I'm not gunna abandon my au. I hope it was worth the wait. I also wanted to know if anyone had any questions on things that aren't clear? As always, I hope you enjoyed reading:D


End file.
